


Literary Submission

by Rocketbalm



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-09
Updated: 2007-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketbalm/pseuds/Rocketbalm





	Literary Submission

Literary Submission

Sitting in the hotel bar having an after dinner drink, Viggo watched as the youngest speaker on this tour berated his agent for some perceived slight. Viggo swirled the remaining scotch in his glass as he pondered the man before him.

They had crossed paths before. When you're in demand on the lecture circuit and your field of academic study is as narrow as theirs was, it was inevitable that you'd cross paths several times a year. Not that a common interest, a passion if you will, was an indication that you'd like each other. In fact Viggo couldn't think of anyone he liked less than the childish brat, as he often thought of him. He was hardly a child age-wise; he was twenty-five at least, more likely thirty, though his unlined skin and wide brown eyes gave him an appearance of a much younger man and his antics dropped his age much lower; thus he was tagged the ‘brat' in Viggo's internal dialogue.

The younger man had a formal air of pretension around him which was emphasized by the lilting British accent and bookish glasses that he wore, Viggo was sure, in an attempt to look older and thus garner the respect of the more senior members of their circle. He was also blessed with a rare physical beauty that he tried to downplay with starched collars and tightly pulled back hair. It only gave credence to Viggo's theory that the more beautiful an object was, the more shallow its veneer would be. In fact, Viggo wouldn't have put it past him to even have changed his name from something graceless like Roland Blund to Orlando Bloom, which was somehow lyrical and more in keeping with the Literary works they lectured on and more indicative of the stiff and controlled Englishness that he wore like a coat of armour.

In contrast, to say that he himself was relaxed would be an understatement. No, Viggo was laid back, an unconstrained freedom that came with an irreverence that often took his colleagues off guard, but they were soon won over by his charm and obvious intelligence. The two men could not be more different, even the disparity in their ages seemed to polarize them more than with other of their contemporaries. It seemed to Viggo that the younger man required control of everything; the temperature of the room, the brand of water that was provided, the order of speakers, the time allotted to each person and the absolute necessity to keep the program on time. The kid couldn't let go; the slightest change would throw off his equilibrium causing him to nearly melt down on more than a few occasions that Viggo had witnessed.

No, if Viggo didn’t find him so insufferable he might just show the lad a thing or two about restraint; teach him how to let go, to fully submit to something completely out of his control. Yes, Viggo mused, if only they could get past the intense dislike they had for each other, they would probably be combustible in bed.

Viggo shook his head and fingered the now empty scotch glass. Where had that come from? He had never so much as thought of Bloom as anything other than a junior pain in the ass and certainly never in any terms that were remotely sexual. Viggo let his eyes travel up the lean, well muscled torso that did its best to remain hidden behind buttoned shirt collars and suit jackets; definitely not hard on the eyes. If only he could find some way to shut him up long enough; instantly an image of the brat naked at his feet, a soft leather gag marked with his seed between his lips and bound firmly behind the loosened waves of his hair came to mind. Viggo grinned to himself, he definitely needed to visit one of the area’s exclusive clubs in the next few days, if his wayward thoughts were any indication of the effect of months of sexual neglect.

Across the crowded room, the brat had dismissed his cowering agent and had made his way to the bar, where he gave very specific and elaborate instructions on how his drink was to be prepared. Turning to find a seat in the small but busy piano bar, he spotted Viggo immediately and if possible he became even more rigid in his stance. After a moment’s hesitation, Viggo hoisted his glass in greeting and motioned an invitation to join him in the more private setting of his otherwise empty booth. Orlando glanced around at his limited options and, Viggo surmised, came to the realization that being stuck in a booth with Viggo was only a marginally better alternative to sitting at a table with a group of over made up cougars on the prowl for fresh meat, regardless of its sexual preference. Viggo noted wryly that even when grimacing the younger man was still amazingly beautiful.

“Mortensen,” he said, primly sliding into the booth, smoothing out his trousers and straightening his jacket. “I see your glass is empty, does that mean you’re done for the evening?” he said with a hint of hopefulness in his tone.

Viggo grinned and winked at the younger man, knowing how familiarity made him cringe. “Naw, just getting started. Luis will bring me another as soon as the bar quiets down a bit.” He could tell that the kid was flustered as a faint blush coloured his ears. This was going to be fun, the older man decided. Maybe he could push the boy into losing his well retained control. “Nice talk today, Bloom. Well, except for the little mix up on the date of birth, that is. Though I’m sure no one other than me noticed…” Viggo trailed off, enjoying the look of sheer panic that flitted across the young man’s face before the frosty façade was firmly in place again.

“My dates were dead on Mortensen. I’m hardly likely to forget the date of Mr. Wilde’s birth, considering I spent eight years at university studying him and wrote and had published not one thesis on his works but two.”

“Ah yes, two theses aside, Bloom, we all slip up now and then. I remember it quite clearly; you reversed the numbers so that 1854 became 1845.”

Orlando paled considerably at that. He had worked hard at school, being slightly dyslexic made it more difficult but not impossible to succeed. He needed to focus completely or numbers and letters sometimes reversed themselves. Any distraction could bring it on and Viggo Mortensen was nothing if not a distraction. The older man was sexy beyond belief; his relaxed air and warmth had always pushed Orlando to the edge of sexual yearning. He needed to concentrate completely or risk being found out amongst the foremost literary minds of the day as someone who rarely dialed the phone because the odds were he’d get it wrong several times before the connection was made; not something that garnered great confidence when the company you kept were quite literally geniuses. The fear of being found out kept Orlando to a strict routine that he controlled vigorously and without respite. If Viggo said he transposed the numbers, then Orlando knew it was likely true, and the only thing he could think to do was somehow turn the tables and put the focus back on the older man. “That’s unadulterated bollocks, Mortensen. Perhaps if you spent half as much time preparing your own presentation as you did listening for perceived miscues of your peers, you would have won the Grafton Award for literary excellence for once instead of being perennially nominated.”

Viggo narrowed his eyes at the younger man. He wasn’t about to be baited by the obvious diversion tactic; he had the pretentious little snit on the run. He wondered what it would take to break him, how far would he have to push before he snapped. Viggo was going to enjoy finding out. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“You know what I think, Bloom? I think you’re hiding something. Something that you keep so tightly controlled that it eats you up inside. Something you long to let go of if even for just a moment. Something I’m going to enjoy finding out. And when I do, Bloom, we’re going to have such fun, you and I. I’m going to peel back each layer until there’s nothing left but you, exposed and vulnerable to do with as I please.”

Orlando tried vainly to keep his composure as he felt a dark blush creep up his neck. His heart galloped in his chest painfully as fear and desire crashed together and pooled desperately in his groin, making him hard instantly. The fear of being discovered was not enough to cool the thought of being exposed by Viggo, helpless and at his mercy. Surely that’s not what he implied. The man he had anxiously avoided for going on two years because the temptation to throw himself at his feet and nuzzle his cock shamelessly was too great had not just indirectly propositioned him, had he?

Viggo watched as the younger man began to tremble; first his hands and then his lower lip. His brown eyes were wide as they sparked with fear and his breathing became heavy as Viggo imagined his heart raced desperately to keep up. This wasn’t what he wanted. A sudden wave of sympathy welled up inside him. The boy really did have something he was hiding and whatever it was, its discovery terrified him. Viggo had never had to resort to blackmail to find a bed partner. No, regardless how much fun it would be to push the tightly wound brat to his breaking point, he had to go willingly and not because he was afraid. This wouldn’t do at all. Using the younger man’s given name for the first time, he savoured it as it rolled off his tongue.

“Orlando?” The way his mouth curled around the ‘O’s’ at the beginning and end of his name made him wonder how it would feel to have it curl around the breadth of his cock. The younger man jerked his head up to meet his eyes. “My verbal joust was intended as just that. I never meant to make a direct hit, nor would I ever use something against you to make you do anything against your will. Whatever your secret is, it’s yours to keep.”

Orlando shoulders slumped in disappointment; there was no way he could tell Viggo that he wanted to go willingly. Not now and probably not ever.

Viggo watched the boy’s shoulders seem to slump in what should have been relief, but Viggo thought he detected something else. Interesting. Maybe there was more to this after all. Viggo wasn’t one to shy away from an opening, no matter how small. The key was not to over play his hand and frighten the already skittish young man.

“Look, I know we’ve never really got along for whatever reason, but I’m not the enemy. I don’t know if I can give you what you need, but I’d never betray your trust. If you need somewhere safe, somewhere to just let everything else go, come and see me anytime. I’m in room 2321.” Viggo wrote the number on the back of one the cardboard coasters on the table and pushed it across the table at the stunned young man. Standing to leave, Viggo bent slightly so that his lips were just at Orlando’s ear. “I’ll only take what you’re willing to give, Orlando.” And with that he walked out of the bar wondering where it would lead.

Orlando clutched the coaster so tightly it began to crease and get moist from the sweat on his palms. The rumble of Viggo’s voice still echoed in his ears, the words hanging like smoke in the air beside him. Could he? Could he go to him? Orlando’s cock was ready to pound down the door if that was any indication. His heart had been lost long before that. The only thing holding him back was his mind, it knew better; knew better than to trust anyone, much less someone who could destroy him with a well placed word or two. No, his mind was pretty firm on where it stood, though his cock and heart were putting up a really good argument.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time had slowed to a crawl as Viggo sat on his bed lost in thought. Wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants, his skin still glowing from the heat of a very hot shower, he waited and wondered. He hadn’t done this for a long time; this being thinking about having a boy. Not that Orlando gave any indication that he would be willing to be his boy, but his mind went there anyway. For the most part, it wasn’t practical to think in terms like that. Being on the road so many weeks of the year didn’t leave a lot of time to be a full time Sir. For years he had satisfied that part of himself at the many discreet clubs across the country that catered to his desires. It was good, but not nearly enough. He never in his greatest imaginings thought there might be even the remotest chance to find someone compatible on tour, much less someone as irritating and beautiful as Orlando. His cock had been hard since he left the bar; hard and neglected. There was something about being able to restrain one’s own urges, something powerful and real, something he hadn’t had to do in a long time. He was pretty sure he was right about the kid, but that didn’t mean the kid would give in to it. It might take weeks or months or never happen at all. Viggo could wait. He didn’t want to, but he could. With unhurried ease, he began to tear a long strip of condoms into individual squares until he could stack them in his palm like a multi-coloured plastic tower of Pisa. He slid them into the night table drawer next to a bottle of lube and set his anticipation to simmer; knowing it wouldn’t take much to stoke it to a rolling boil when potential became promise, and promise became fulfillment – however long it took.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took Orlando two hours to talk himself into going and another hour to get himself ready both mentally and physically. He didn’t know what Viggo would do with him or even what exactly he implied, but if he was going to give himself over to it, he wanted to be ready for any eventuality. He showered with focused restraint, making sure he was cleaned both inside and out and giving his cock only the most cursory of cleanings as it bobbed hard and red in the needle-like stream of the shower. Patting himself down with a towel, he left his hair to dry naturally, grimacing as it curled up in unrestrained enthusiasm. Slowly he prepped himself, careful not to take more pleasure from the act than necessary. Regardless of how careful he was being, the anticipation of what might transpire almost made him come.

He dressed deliberately, choosing clothes that he seldom wore but always brought on tour in case he needed to get away and blend in with the locals for a few hours. Without the constraint of underwear, he buttoned himself into his jeans and pulled on a fitted white t-shirt, groaning as his nipples hardened eagerly against the fabric. Taking a minute to control his breathing, he reached for the coaster, the numbers dancing before his eyes as he found it difficult to concentrate. Not trusting himself to remember the numerical sequence as it was written; he clutched the wrinkled cardboard in his hand and slipped out into the hallway.

Reaching the twenty-third floor, he studied each door carefully as he went. His heart rate increased with the each number he passed, 2317, 2319, 2321. He stood for a full minute looking at the handwritten digits on the coaster and the machine pressed ones on the door, making sure they matched. Letting go of any lingering and confining doubts, he knocked on the door and waited.

Viggo cocked his head as the quiet but firm knock resounded in the room; so he was right. Sliding from the bed he didn’t bother to try and hide his rampant arousal, if he was right, there would be no point in hiding its impatient intention. Glancing at the peep-hole, he knew what he would find, but the sight inflamed him regardless. A picture of sin in a tight t-shirt and jeans, so deliciously different than his usual suit and tie and a temptation as great as any he’d ever seen.

He swung the door inward and stood fully in the opening. “Orlando,” he said as if there was never any doubt that he would come. The young man blushed furiously and clutched the now well worn coaster in his hand. They stood staring at each other for several heartbeats, neither moving nor giving any sign of what was to come.

“I’m dyslexic,” he said finally as if it would explain everything. When Viggo didn’t reply the younger man filled the silence with a rambling explanation that proved his nervousness. “I transpose numbers and letters, if I don’t make a concentrated effort to control my surroundings. If I’m distracted or my routine is altered it becomes worse and worse until reading becomes almost impossible. I was distracted today. I must have mixed up the birth date, though I know it as well as my own.”

Viggo nodded and stood aside, inviting the anxious young man in. It made sense now; all the specific requests, the controlled demeanor; it was Orlando’s way of keeping his secret from the pretentious and cutthroat literary world, in which respect was hard earned and even harder to keep. Viggo felt a surge of compassion for the boy; how hard it must have been to keep them off balance, far away from his secret by building a wall of restricting routines and brattish behaviour that kept anyone from wanting to get too close or to learn more. It took a lot of courage to tell Viggo, it must have cost him greatly and he deserved something in return. “Thank you, Orlando, for trusting me,” he said gently. The younger man nodded as he fidgeted restlessly. They stood several feet apart yet Viggo was sure he could feel the heat coming off the younger man in waves. “Is there more?” he asked simply, trying to gauge if the younger man knew his own mind or if he had come on instinct more than anything else.

“More?” Orlando was confused. Did Viggo mean more than his dyslexia or another reason for coming to his room? He faltered, suddenly unsure of Viggo’s intent.

“Yes. More,” Viggo rasped as he closed the gap between them until they stood barely a foot apart. “You gave up your secret to me, is there more than that? You’ve given me your trust, is there something else you wish to trust me with?”

His voice caressed Orlando’s senses as if he had run a finger across his naked flesh. “Y... y… yes!” He stammered closing his eyes.

“Do wish to give it freely and not out of fear or because of coercion?”

“God, yessss,” he hissed, screwing his eyes even tighter shut, hoping he wouldn’t disgrace himself.

“Are you willing to give up control, to let go completely and give yourself, your pleasure, and your pain to my care?”

Orlando was whimpering now as Viggo stepped forward so that their bodies were far enough apart so that they barely brushed against one another but reflected the heat that radiated between them. “I… I am,” and he fell to his knees in front of Viggo and pressed his cheek to the prominent arousal in front of him, nuzzling it with fervour.

Viggo watched in amazement as the tousled mahogany curls rubbed shamelessly against his crotch in an echo of his thoughts earlier at the bar. As thrilled as he was with Orlando’s submission, he recognized that Orlando was still controlling things in his own way by taking what he wanted rather than waiting to serve at Viggo’s request. A small thing, but it was something that needed to be kept in check while it was still so new to the boy. Taking a step away from the zealous young man, Viggo composed himself as he watched the boy’s control slowly crumble and wondered again at his experience. “Orlando, have you done this before?” He knew the boy preferred men but he wasn’t sure if he had been a submissive before or even if he knew that’s what his behaviour indicated he wanted.

Orlando looked up at him with glazed eyes. Done this before? Had sex? No, no Viggo was asking if he had submitted to someone before. God, he must seem like such a novice. He swallowed hard. “Um, sort of. Yes, yes I have…”

Viggo saw the boy’s discomfort and wanted to get him to relax by giving him some structure. “When I ask you a question I want you to answer without editing your thoughts, clearly and truthfully. Not nodding or shrugging, I want you to vocalize your answer, I want to hear you. Can you do that?”

Orlando nodded vigorously before adding “Yes,” in a breathy rush from his place on the floor.

“And when you’re standing or kneeling I’d like you to put your hands behind your back and lightly grasp the opposite wrist. Okay?”

Orlando blinked once before quickly reaching behind himself and settling into the new position. “Yes.”

Viggo watched the boy try to get comfortable in the new stance, his breathing slowed and his flush turned to a healthy glow. Viggo pushed further. “How would that position feel to you if you were naked? Would you be comfortable or would it be too much.

Orlando blinked. Hard.

“There is no wrong answer here, Orlando. Close your eyes if it helps. Would the feeling be better or worse if you were naked. Here. In front of me. On your knees. Your hands clasped behind your back.”

Orlando didn’t think he could possibly get harder, but now he feared he’d be left with permanent imprints of his fly on his cock. Steadying his nerves he answered, “Better. Definitely better.”

Viggo nodded. It was hard to miss the straining cock in his jeans; it practically leapt at the idea of being naked. “Okay, how about you stand up and take your clothes off while you tell me about your experiences. Have you been to clubs? Had a dominant lover? What?”

Orlando rose and carefully began to pull his shirt over his head, sending his curls into a new riot of disarray. “At uni. My final year. My advisor figured out about my dyslexia and asked me back to his flat for a ‘consultation’. As recompense for keeping my secret he took me into his bed. He wasn’t my first man, but he was the first that required me to submit. I found while I disliked him immensely, I really rather enjoyed the games he like to play. It wasn’t anything formal but I’ve done a lot of reading and not much else since then.” He reached for the buttons on his jeans, unabashedly pulling them open and letting his cock spring free of the confining fabric as he slid them down his smooth thighs before stepping out of them and folding them neatly, leaving them on the chair by the television. Turning again to face Viggo, he awkwardly went to his knees and clasped his hands loosely behind his back.

Oh fuck, in his haste he’d already fucked up one of the most important things, determine the ground rules and trust before getting naked. Okay, they had touched on trust before he got Orlando naked but still, this was something he couldn’t let pass without some discussion. He only wished that the younger man was clothed while they had it; sort of. Seeing the proud slender cock bob toward him, Viggo could barely suppress the grin that was threatening to form. Not very Domish, he was definitely out of practice. Refocusing on the asshole of an advisor that Orlando just told him about, Viggo practically glowered. He didn’t want what was happening between them to have anything to do with the secret and what Orlando told him. He wanted to be sure that there were no misunderstandings that could come back to haunt them in the future. Whatever this was going to become, Viggo wanted it to be based on trust and not on anything else. “I’m sorry that was your first experience, Orlando. I should have asked before I had you strip,” he shrugged before continuing. “I don’t want this to be about anything other than us. Not your secret, not our work, just us and our mutual desires. If you leave right now or a week from now, anything and everything that happens between us or is spoken between is our alone. I will never use it against you out of spite or anger. I need you to be clear. I need you to tell me that you want this too.”

Orlando’s smile lit up the dim room. “I do. I’ve wanted this, you, for a long time, Viggo... Sir,” he added shyly. “You have my trust, Viggo, in all things.”

“Good,” Viggo felt his heart leap in his chest. If he wasn’t careful this boy would find his way into the long-empty vessel and never leave; somehow that didn’t seem like such a terrible thing. Stepping forward Viggo looked into the warm chocolate eyes and wondered how he had ever thought so little of such a lovely man. “Your trust is a gift I graciously accept. Do you have a word? Something to use if things get to be too much, something you would never use in the heat of passion.”

Orlando tried hard not to grin. He had thought about having a safe word, ever since he found out what one was. Not using one, but the idea of having someone to use one with if the need arose, never failed to excite him. “Profundis,” he said decisively.

“Profundis.” Viggo let the word roll from his tongue carefully. “Interesting choice, I take it that it wasn’t made randomly. You’ve thought about this?”

“Yes.”

“What else have you thought about, boy?”

Orlando vibrated at the word ‘boy’. He practically flung himself across the two feet of distance between them to frantically lick Viggo’s leaking cock through the thin fabric of his sleep pants. Viggo was barely able to suppress a groan as the boy dragged his teeth gently over the curved head of his erection. Orlando forgot himself in his enthusiasm as he managed to drag Viggo’s pants down and nuzzle the trim nest of curls at the base of his arousal. Viggo almost lost himself to the fervour of the young man, but he knew that would be giving Orlando what he could find in any bar on any night. With every passing moment Viggo grew more and more certain of what Orlando needed, even if the boy himself didn’t know. Viggo reached down and placed his hand under his chin, lifted gently and waited while the younger man’s eyes regained their focus. “Hands behind your back, boy,” He said gently as he stepped out of his pants, watching Orlando mentally shake himself before quickly clasping his hands behind his back.

“I want you to take my cock in your mouth… feel its weight on your tongue. That’s it, just listen to me. Don’t anticipate what comes next. Just be in the moment. I’ll keep you safe and guide you. You just give yourself over to it.”

Orlando let Viggo’s voice wash over him, surrounding him in its warmth. He felt himself slip into the words, let them guide him as he let go of his need to be in control. The world shrunk until it was just his mouth and Viggo’s cock, everything else disappeared.

When Viggo saw Orlando start to slide into his role, he marveled at the ease in which it happened; his eagerness to be free of the burdens he placed on himself made the transition seem effortless. Viggo watched as the boy waited, his pulsing erection held gently in his mouth, for further instructions. “Look at me, boy.” Their eyes met and Viggo was sure he had never seen anything as perfect as the untamed curls and warm dark eyes staring at him with the quiet need to serve. “So perfect,” he added as he ran his hand through the wild locks encouragingly. He stroked the rounded curve of the boy’s scalp as a web of words spun from his lips in a sexy patter, cocooning the boy safely in their strands. “Now suck gently. Feel the texture of my skin… Consider the contrast between the soft skin and the hardness of desire. Let your tongue guide you. Let it dip into the slit and taste me.” Viggo watched as Orlando stopped trying to predict what he was going to ask next and just let go of everything but the sound of his voice and the touch, taste and smell of his cock.

Orlando shed the fundamental need to control his actions like a snake sloughed off its outgrown scales. He slipped inside the pristine newness and mentally stretched at the different sensations, making them his own. They fit. Like nothing else he'd ever experienced and for once he felt at home in his own skin. He gave himself over to Viggo's words, knowing that Viggo would guide him and keep him safe; he didn't need to plan or prepare, he only needed to be in the moment. Become one with the man before him. Everything blended and blurred until the minor ache of his bare knees on the carpet, the strain of his shoulders pulled back into an unfamiliar position, and need to think about the timing of each breath so he didn't asphyxiate slipped away and was replaced by the needy arousal pressed against his lips; the salty tang of each drop of pre-ejaculate that he gathered from the tip of the burning arousal in his mouth, the slight twitch that came whenever his tongue glided softly across its hole, and the delicate thrust that followed each time he sucked the head deep into his throat.

Viggo savoured the moment as his connection with the younger man became so much more than a random sexual encounter. Viggo knew without a doubt that this was more; the potential was staggering as it hit squarely in the chest. They’d have to talk about it, but not now. Now it was time for something else entirely and he was going to make sure it was a night neither of them would soon forget.

His body reacted to the physical sensations with an urgency he hadn’t felt since he was a much younger man, while his mind responded to the gift of trust that he had been given; the combination of the two nearly sent him careening headlong into a explosive release. As much as he wanted that, he also had a responsibility to his boy and they had much farther to go before the night was done. Gently he pulled Orlando off his cock, his moans of disappointment only served to spur Viggo on. “That was so good, boy. Do you want to feel me deep inside you?”

Orlando whimpered at the loss of the hot flesh between his lips and then quivered at the thought of having it delve far into the most intimate reaches of his body. He gulped air into his lungs, trying to form words as he nodded vigorously until the word ‘yes’ finally made it past his lips tangled with a groan of anticipation.

“Good,” Viggo whispered as he ran his hand along the jaw of his soon to be lover. “To the bed then. On your knees, forehead to the mattress and hands behind your back. Take your time, feel your balance and breathe.”

As much as Viggo said to take his time, Orlando practically leapt to the bed in a single step before settling himself into position, testing how far he had to spread his legs to be comfortable before putting his head to the mattress and clasping his hands on the small of his back. He felt the bed dip as Viggo climbed up behind him and then the stillness of nothing, not a sound or movement. He should have been unnerved but he wasn’t. He felt safe even in the vulnerable position he had placed himself.

Viggo stared. The small dark pink divot seemed to wink naughtily at him. It glistened. It glistened with what only could be lube. The boy had prepped. Viggo’s cock wanted nothing more than to just sink deep in the pouty pucker repeatedly; fortunately his head knew better. “You prepped,” he said, hoping the awe wouldn’t be too noticeable in his voice.

“Yesssss,” it came out in a quiet hiss as he felt the older man's breath across the wetness of the lube, cooling it and giving him a quick thrill.

“I'm going to fuck you hard and fast and I don't want you to come until I say. Squeeze the base of your cock if you have to, but don't come,” Viggo rasped as he let his thumb glide over the moist hole while he used his other hand to gently tug on the heavy sacs that swayed between the boy's legs. Without much preamble, Viggo let his thumb slowly press into the furled notch, watching as it resisted and then swallowed the digit well past the knuckle. A low hungry moan rumbled up from the mattress, as Orlando worked to keep from moving out of position. “That's it, let me hear you. Tell me how it feels, Orlando.”

“nnnggg… so good. so good. sogoodsogoodsogoodsogoodsogood...”

Viggo rotated his thumb in the heated channel as he ran his other hand down the boys spine, a gentle reminder to hold still. He marveled at the way the heated channel swallowed his thumb so easily yet now it held the digit fast, as if afraid it would retreat, leaving it empty and wanting. Using his free hand, Viggo gently pulled one cheek firmly to the side so he could clearly see where their bodies were joined. He wanted nothing more than to sink his cock deep and hard in along side his thumb and ride the boy until he came undone, pleading for release. His cock jerked and grazed the back of the boy's smooth thigh in anticipation; Orlando hissed as if he had been branded but didn't move out of position.

Viggo smiled. Fuck he was perfect. “Good boy,” he said as he slid a finger in next to the thumb, replacing it in the fierce clenching heat. Working his digit deep into the boy, careful not to brush against his prostate, wanting to prolong the boy's enjoyment and build his need slowly. He raised his thumb to his mouth and sucked the dark musky sweetness of the boy and knew it was a taste he'd never tire of.

Orlando moaned under the slow and deliberate pace Viggo set; his shoulders quivering with a combination of strain and need; so full of promise. “Speak, boy.” Was all that was required for the torrent of desire to pour out.

“More. Want more.” His voice clear and steady; so different than earlier when he had let desire rule him rather than sinking into submission where he only had to think when Viggo asked it of him. “Want you to fuck me… Sir,” he added belatedly.

Viggo watched his finger disappear again and again into the snug port before adding another, scissoring them in a corkscrew motion that had the boy keening. “Lucky for you that's what I want as well. Now brace your hands on the headboard and stay as still as you can.”

“Yes Sir.”

Orlando complied without hesitation, settling his hands on the headboard and adjusting his grip until he was comfortable. Viggo watched his deliberate movements while he continued to work his fingers deep inside the boy, choosing not to add a third finger, wanting the final stretch to come from his cock breaching the ring of muscle so slowly that they both remembered it. Continuing his rhythmic tempo, Viggo reached over Orlando's sweat slicked back for the lube and condoms. He tore the wrapper with his teeth and rolled on the latex sheath one-handed and immediately reached for the lube. He squeezed a small dollop onto the head of his cock, grateful for the coolness of the gel calming him through the thin layer of protection as he felt it pulse beneath his grasp.

Orlando moaned at the sound of the condom opening and the squelch of the lube. His muscles strained to hold their position; his urge to rock back was barely kept in check. With effort he remembered why he was there, what he had asked for, what Viggo was willing to give him. In that instant he was able to submit and let the anticipation wash over him. He felt the prickles of need raise up all over his skin, burning him from the inside, only to be cooled by the sweat gathering in the dips and valleys of his toned torso. He heard the slick sound of lube as skin slapped softly against skin and the steady puffs of his breath that were one octave from becoming a moan. His head swam from the smell of arousal as it leaked from his cock and welled up through his pores to mingle with more delicate scent of desire that radiated off of the man with his fingers deep in his ass. Each of his senses sang on it's own, clear and distinct, until they all blended into a medley of sexual sensation until he could no longer define where he ended and Viggo began; everything had become one.

Viggo could feel the changes in Orlando as if the boy's body were his own. First the struggle and straining need to take more than what was given, followed by a subtle shift into acceptance and the gift of complete submission. The boy was a natural, no amount of cruising clubs, the internet or reading books could produce such natural responses. Viggo wondered if he'd ever be able to give him up if that's what he wanted. Shoving that somewhat disturbing thought from his mind, Viggo focused on giving the boy what he promised he could – a safe place to let go of everything that bound him so tightly.

Reluctantly he removed his fingers from their internal caress, watching the opening desperately cling to his digits, unwilling to let them go. Viggo spread the rounded globes apart giving himself and unobstructed view of the perfect pucker that lay between them. With deliberate restraint he ran his slicked up cock along the crevasse, smiling at the involuntary twitches that were the only movement from the stillness the boy presented. “I want to hear you boy. I won't insist that you form words but I want to hear you, whether it's a moan or scream, those sounds are mine just as much as your body is right now. So don't hold back Orlando, don't hold anything back,” he said, emphasizing the word ‘anything' as he started to slowly press his eager erection into the equally eager, prepared aperture.

Orlando's sobs of relief quickly turned into moans of desire as he felt he thick, blunt tip of Viggo's cock begin to press into his body; the initial burning stretch teetering on the pleasure pain threshold before crashing headlong into pleasure, erasing any pain. Viggo's relentlessly slow push forward made him want to instinctively push backward and fill himself with the thick heated flesh he so craved, but he knew now that while his will would give him pleasure, bowing to Viggo's will would make him soar and he focused and the sensations that played over his body like fingers of a harpist as they danced over the strings.

Viggo's restraint was taken to its limits as he reveled in the tightness that engulfed his rock-hard organ. He grabbed the boy's narrow hips, more to steady himself than to hold the boy still; the sound of relief and lust that poured from the younger man was like music introduced into a vacuum, intense and all consuming. “I'm going to fuck you now boy, hard and fast. If you think you're going to come, if you feel like you can't hold on, tell me and I'll stop until you've regained control of yourself and then I'll start again. I'm going fuck you until all you can see, hear and feel is me. Until your body is no longer yours, but mine in all ways; until I let you come and it rips from you so fast and hard you believe it's taken some of your skin with it. Then you'll ride those waves knowing that I gave that to you and only I can give it you again.”

Orlando was wailing now. His entire body throbbed with the need to be released from every constraint he had bound himself with and every restriction he lived with so long. Viggo's slow penetration was followed by an equally slow withdrawal and Orlando moaned at the loss. Before he could pull out altogether, Viggo thrust back in with such force that Orlando rocked forward, his head nearly hitting the headboard. Each subsequent thrust was just as unrelenting as it dragged unerringly along the boy's prostate, causing the pleasure to sear his nerve endings with blinding ecstasy. His arms automatically braced against the onslaught while he babbled and keened, his throat as dry as his back was wet with sweat and his cheeks with tears that came from finally being liberated.

Viggo felt his own orgasm begin to curl deep in his groin sparking across his skin until every motion, every touch was electric. He reached for Orlando and pulled him back flush against his chest and driving him down onto his cock and growling in his ear, “come for me boy.”

Orlando felt himself shatter with those four words as his orgasm ripped from his untouched cock, painting himself and the bed with his pearly fluid. His body vibrated on a cellular level; every hair, every pore, every nerve became a conduit of sensation, not only of his own pleasure but of Viggo's as well. Every shuddering aftershock was punctuated with a sobbing attempt of Viggo's name as the older man imprinted himself deep on his soul.

Viggo felt the clench of muscle grip him tight in its silky heat as the boy came, but it was the disjointed babbling wail that might have been his own name that sent him over the top and plunging into an orgasmic free-fall as his release marked the boy as surely as if he had branded him. While his cock continued to pulse in its scorching silken cocoon, he gathered the boy in his arms and rocked him slowly back and forth bringing them both back to earth with soothing words of praise and endearment. Their sweat slicked bodies rapidly cooling in the artificially chilled room, he managed to lay the boy down on his side and without ever letting him go. He tied off and disposed of the condom beside the bed before he spooned up behind him protectively. Viggo watched as Orlando's closed eyes flickered beneath his lids as if he was trying to find his way back to the sound of Viggo's voice. He kissed the damp curls at his temple while their heart-rate slowly returned to something resembling normal.

Orlando could hear a humming near his ear; a lilting melody that made him feel safe and cared for and he opened his eyes. “Viggo?”

“Mmmmm you're back. You feel okay?”

Orlando felt gentle kisses along his neck and he arched into the playful touch unable to put into words just how okay he was. “I've never… it's… I've…” he stammered.

“Deep breath, Orlando. I need to know you're all right. Did I hurt you?” The concern that coloured Viggo's tone snapped Orlando back into the here and now.

“God no. I mean I've never come like that. You know, just from being fucked. It was so intense and so freeing all at once. I'm just so… You're… fuck I feel like a pubescent twat. What I mean to say is you're amazing. I never knew sex could be like that. Thank you.”

Viggo felt his heart open and accept the boy without looking back; he knew he was lost to this ‘brat' who was as brilliant as he was adorable. He never thought that he would find this boy, who he had thought was such an annoyance, to be so completely endearing. “You're welcome, though I think I should be thanking you,” Viggo said.

Orlando turned to look at the man who had just shattered him and any preconceived notions he had about sex or submission. The blue of the Viggo's eyes seemed to darken as he searched for a sign, any sign, that the older man felt remotely the same way about him as he did. Finding the answer, he leaned in for their first real kiss, gentle and undemanding, a promise and a gift. There would be plenty of time for talking and sorting themselves out later; now was the time to explore the place they would come together as equals, partners, lovers and friends; a place where they would share love, laughter and life. It was a gift that Viggo accepted without words and returned without conditions.

The end.


End file.
